A New Avenger?
by Georgie J
Summary: The Avengers have abandoned shawarma and are moving on to a new sushi joint. After Thor smashes a table, curious happenings alert them to the possibility of a new and mysterious figure among them.
1. Chapter One: A New Avenger?

**Part I**

[ _This is after Stark's request to go for shawarma following the Avenger's battle in New York but before the events of the Civil War._ ]

"I hope this cuisine is better than shawarma," Thor grumbled, shouldering his way through the restaurant door.

Steve smiled. "It is. I can promise. It was recommended to me by a friend and it's good. Apparently sushi is all the rage now."

Thor nodded, unconvinced.

A waitress appeared, dressed in a smart black dress, with a red sash around her waist and hair swept up into a messy bun.

"Good evening gentlemen. I'm Ash and I'll be your waitress for this evening."

"Evening ma'am. A table for seven, please." Steve gestured. "It should be booked under Stark." The waitress looks at him, a smile tugging at her lips. "Sorry, we're a little late," he said.

"Not to worry, sir. The booking for 'best Avengers team ever' is still available." Steve sighed and rolled his eyes at Stark's cheek while Thor chuckled.

"And the others have already arrived. If you'd like to follow me, I'll take you to meet them."

They follow Ash through the restaurant, not noticing the stares or quick intakes of breath from the other customers. She stopped beside an empty table. "This is your table. If you would like to leave anything here, you're most welcome to."

Thor grunted and swung his hammer onto the table, cracking the black wooden varnish. Ash winced slightly.

She grimaces. "The others are out on the patio enjoying some drinks. Would you like to join them or wait here?"

Steve looked guiltily at the crack, "Uh, outside thank you ma'am."

"Of course sir."

As she moved to lead them onto the balcony, the Captain grabbed her arm. "We'll sort out the damage. Just add it to the bill," he said.

She nodded, smiling gratefully and moves on. He watched her leave and take orders from a group of three young, ever so slightly inebriated men. Smiling, he moved to join the others.

Back in the restaurant, Ash was setting the table. After leaning over and around Thor's hammer, almost knocking the cutlery off of the table for the third time, she sighed, frustrated. She glanced at the balcony where all are happily engaged in conversation and quickly, grasps the hammer. A shock of electricity zaps her finger. She sucked on her finger quickly, shook it remove the tingling and them heaved the hammer off the table onto the floor. She rubbed the crack in the table, sadly, knowing that it would probably come out of her wages, no matter what the Captain said. They would never charge customers as prestigious as the Avengers.

With another glance at the silhouettes on the balcony, she deftly laid down the final piece in the elaborate napkin display and then carefully pushed the hammer to sit neatly by the side of the booth.

On her way back to the table to lay out the menus, she was intercepted by Renee, a tall, willowy waitress, who deftly slid the menus out from Ash's arms.

"I'll take care of this" she said smugly. "We need to ensure that these clients receive the very _best_ treatment," and pursing her glossed lips and twining her hair into chunky curls. The dark cherry lipstick was definitely not part of the regulation uniform.

"We see we've got your handles full with table 45," Renee said, pointedly looking over at the three men in the opposite aisle, now trying to volley wasabi peas into each other's drinks and mouths.

"But I've already set the table." Even to her ears, it sounded like a whine. "Fine," Ash sighed. It wasn't worth picking the fight. Ash swept up her wiping cloth and turned away.

She was more annoyed at Renee's presumptions than actually being deprived of the opportunity to talk to the Avengers. Yes, that was it. She tried very hard not to think of the posters pinned on her bedroom wall.

Watching Ash's retreating back, Renee smiled and moves out the patio. "If you'd like to please follow me, your table is ready," she said, her best service smile plastered to her face.

They followed her in, as she swept before them as if she, Renee, was responsible for their very presence. They were rowdy, laughing at Thor recounting, in a booming voice, the time he had bested a two-horned bison.

He turns in front of the rest of the group, enacting the sequence before them, hands gestured wide and face alight. Each Avenger rolled their eyes and smirked with good-natured scepticism.

They are a few steps from the table and Thor is was regaling them of his adventures. "And then I took up my hammer and-"

He stops. The smile, frozen on his face, flattened into a look of concern.

"What is it?" Captain is there. He could sense a sudden tension in his friend. He looked to Thor's line of sight, where his hammer sits, squared neatly beside one side of the booth.

"My hammer."

"Yes, we _know_ Thor, you hit it with your hammer," Tony remarked, ghosting past them and snatching a delicate black bamboo menu from an empty table nearby. "That's all you ever do," he mumbled in a slightly lower voice, finger thumbing through the menu.

Thor, ignoring him strode over to inspect.

"What's up with the big boy?" Tony said, peering over his menu at Thor, who was crouching in front of the hammer and cautiously poking it.

Captain said quietly, "Someone moved his hammer."

"His hammer? But isn't that impossible? All that, 'Only someone worthy…' Oh." Stark fell silent, fingering his goatee thoughtfully.

"WHO has moved my hammer?" Thor boomed.

A sudden hush descended on the restaurant. Renee jogged over, her short black heels rapping smartly on the tiles as she strode.

"I'm sorry sir," she simpered. "What seems to be the issue?"

"Did you move this hammer?"

"Why, I,' she said, deflating slightly, "no, sir."

"Who set this table?"

Bemused at his change of tact, Renee said, "I'm sorry sir, is there an issue with the setting?"

"No issue," Thor said simply and slowly. "I just want to know who set this table." He stooped to pick up his hammer.

The manager, a tall woman with bouncing brown waves of hair, reached Renee's shoulder. "Marion," she said, extending a hand and gracious smile to Thor. "What seems to be the issue here?"

He ignored her proffered hand. "I need to know who set this table," he said, gesturing.

Marion's face, sculpted from years of working in hospitality, only belied an instant of incredulity at the question. Unruffled, she dropped her hand.

"Of course. Well it's our policy that the waitress who serves the table stays with the table the entire night, to ensure a thorough service experience. As Renee here," she said gesturing to the cowed waitress, "has been attending to you, she will have been the one to set it, yes?"

The question was directed to Renee for confirmation, and was met with a slow, reluctant nod.

"Well then. What is the issue with the setting? Would you prefer another table?"

"No, I need to know who moved this hammer!" Thor struck the wooden surface of the table with his hammer. The single table leg splintered under the weight. Black dishes slid with a clatter to the floor, the thin white ceramic crescents that had been holding the chopsticks sliding after them. They smashed in a fine spray of china against the storm grey tiles.

"Sir!" Against herself, Marion took a step back.

Tony moved in beside Thor, grabbing his arm with a warning aside, "Thor. Now is not the time for a temper tantrum."

Shaking him off, Thor growled, "This hammer can only be moved by one worthy of Odin. If she didn't move it-" he gestured his hammer in Renee's direction, "then who did?"

He turned to face the restaurant at large which, in true fashion of a curious crowd, were sneaking glances over the rims of wine glasses and around napkins, all the while determinedly paying no attention at all. Waitresses flowed around the restaurant, swiftly replacing half-eaten cooling dishes with their streaming successors, each with their eyes fixed securely on their clients alone. In the opposite aisle, Ash discreetly moved to block the inquisitive stares of its occupants, as she laid out a tenderly smoked trout.

"Who here has moved this hammer?" Thor cried.

On the opposite table, there was a clang as a fork fell to the floor. The sound reverberated in the silence that followed. Ash scrambled to pick it up, muttering apologies to the elderly couple she had been serving.

"Thor," Tony said exasperated. "It could have been anyone in this restaurant. Whoever did it isn't going to own up with you bristling like a thunder cloud. Let's sit."

A pause. "Now."

Thor nodded. Marion, ever the hostess re-activated. "Well, we'll be needing a new table then won't we gentlemen? And er, lady," she said eyeing Natasha's raised eyebrows. "Until Renee can arrange a new one for you, how about another round of drinks on our deck?"

As they retreated to the deck, now bathed in an orange and pink fresco from the sunset, general hubbub from the restaurant swelled to fill the silence, people talking excitedly about the scene they had witnessed.

Quietly, in the doorway, Steve gently pulled Marion aside. "We'll pay for the damage ma'am, just as we did before."

"Before, Captain?"

They both turned to look at the table, where Ash was sweeping shattered shards from the floor, while Renee carefully tiptoed around her to set another. The table's leg was as bowed as before, but the earlier indent from Thor's hammer was smooth, untraceable amongst the lazily circling grains of wood.

"Ah, never mind," he said hastily. "Just give me the quote and I'll see to it."

"Of course." Marion nodded her head and retreated.

"Oh and Marion?"  
"Yes, Captain?"

"The waitress, Ash, has she worked with you for long?" Marion looked at Ash, a quizzical look on her face.

"Well… yes, sir, she has been with us for quite some time. Do… do you need her, sir?"

"No, thank you. That's all." She smiled briefly and left.

The Captain shook his head, deep in thought.

As she sidestepped Ash, Renee leant down, on the premise of picking up a stray ceramic corner.

"Did you move that thing?" she hissed.

"What thing?" Ash said, deliberately not looking up from the floor.

"The hammer, you idiot. Don't mess with me."

"Oh that," Ash stood, above Renee, full dustpan in hand. "Well, I wouldn't know. I didn't set the table," she said coolly.

Renee rose to meet her. "You know I would have been in big trouble if I'd told Marion you set it. Now did you move the damn thing or not?"

Ash glanced at the silhouettes on the deck, now accepting drinks from the drinks waiter. She could see Thor's silhouette, casually swinging his hammer in his right hand. She certainly didn't want to be the brunt of that anger.

"No. No I didn't."

"If you're lying…"

"I'd be in almost as much trouble as you would be, if Marion knew that you betrayed our so called 'gold service' standard."

Renee glared, her lips thinning but said nothing, and stalked away. She crunched another china piece into dust as she went, a small, savage smile of satisfaction. Sighing, Ash bent to clean it up.

As Renee ushered the Avengers back into a new booth, Ash pushed down a strangling tendril of alarm, worming its way through her chest. She passed the rest of her shift behind a determined façade of courteousness, while anxiety pulsed beneath her skin. She wasn't even offended when one of the men from table 45 loudly informed her that their sashimi was uncooked or spilt drink everywhere trying to crack open a bottle of Ramune.

The whole time she tried to avoid looking at the table where the Avengers were sitting, all chattering happily, except for Thor and the Captain. Steve merely looked thoughtful but Thor continued to scan the restaurant, as if hoping the offender would give him a sign. She would not give him that sign.

Finally, it was just them and table 45 left. Then they paid their bill and left the restaurant. Even Renee, sashaying past Ash, fanning herself with Stark's generous tip couldn't whitewash the feeling of relief inside. It was over.

She was relieved, she thought, as she stacked the clean cutlery and straightened out the mats. And yet, another part of her felt very small inside. Just once, she was so close to being seen and yet-. No. She reminded herself sternly, that it was good that she had not been noticed. She might have lost her job for moving the hammer.

"It wouldn't have made a difference anyway," she says quietly to herself.


	2. Chapter Two: A New Avenger?

**Part II**

"That Renee is such a _bitch_!" exclaimed Bella. She was sprawled on top of Ash's bedspread, on her stomach, head cupped in her hands and long white legs waving behind her in lazy circles.

"Mmmhmm," agreed Helena, eyes not moving from the magazine she was holding upside down. She was propped up against the bed while Ash was sitting cross-legged on her shaggy rug, spooning reheated pasta into her mouth, while fastidiously avoiding dropping any on her uniform.

Ash had barely been in her room – affectionately referred to as "my little cupboard" – two minutes before her two friends from college had waltzed in and taken their customary spots. They were ready to hear the latest recount of Ash's horrors at work. Bella had never worked a day in her life, and so often found the bizarre demands of customers hilarious. Helena, on the other hand, was now mouthing words silently, her brow furrowed in deep concentration at the glossy pages before her.

"You're not even listening Helena!" Bella punched her on the shoulder. "Ash was just telling us a heart-wrenching story about how Rene continues to crush her soul-"

"She doesn't crush-" Bella's raised hand stopped Ash's indignant protest. She lifted one eyebrow. Ash rolled her eyes and stayed silent.

"About how she crushes her soul every day she has to waitress at that hoighty-toighty joint and-"

"It's not hoighty-toighty!" Ash interrupted again.

"It so is! All of those old white men and the delicate little chopsticks and-"

"Just because _you_ work at a take-out store."

"We are _not_ a take-out store! I'll have you know, we promote a sustainable, wholesome, vegetarian and vegan-based-"

"Healthy lifestyle," Ash finished. "Yeah I _know_." She sighed. Muttering into her pasta, she said, "along with spitting in the food when customers are rude to you and overcharging grannies for useless organic foods."

"Right, that's it-" Bella drew breath, starting to rise from the bed.

"Will you two stop fighting?" Ash and Bella are silent at Helena's reprimand. They looked at each other sheepishly and then burst into laughter. Helena shakes her head and smiling, returned to her magazine. "You two," she said. Groaning, Ash heaved herself up from the carpet and stowed her dish in the sink, filling it with water to soak. She flicked water on the plants that were spilling over from the sill above it. Specimens just like it filled her dorm room on every free square of surface area.

"H," Bella said, scorching closer to where Helena was lounging against the end of the bed. "You do realise you're holding it upside down don't you?" She peered over Helena's shoulder.

Helena snatched it defensively away. "I know," she said sniffily. "It's a quiz."

Bella and Ash look at each other, wickedly. "Doooo tell," Ash said, sidling back from the sink.

"No. You'll laugh at me."

"We won't," Bella and Ash chorused together. Every time they had promised that over the past two years of knowing each other, it had proven to be a lie. Helena knew it. But she also knew there was no escaping them now their curiosity was piqued.

"Fine." She said, unpeeling the magazine from where it was clenched against her chest. "The quiz is called," she paused, looking at their expectant faces. She cleared her throat, "It's called, 'Which Avenger is your true love?"

Both were immediately laughing. Ash rolled onto her bag, kicking her legs while Bella pummelled the duvet. Helena hid her face behind the magazine.

"I told you! I knew you would laugh at me."

"Of course we would H! What a piece of crap," Bella howled with mirth. "I can't believe you read that shit!"

Ash, having quietened down a little pulls the disgruntled Helena into a hug. She said stiffly, "It's just because you were telling the story about them being there and I remembered I hadn't done the quiz yet so I thought…"

"You thought you'd play matchmaker. Again." Ash grinned.

"Yeah, remember what happened last time?" Bella said. Helena winced. It turns out her most recent pick for Bella hadn't worked out all that well, given that he had been working at an abattoir at the time.

"Oh come on H," she said," You know we don't mean it like that. Let's have a look," she said, prising the magazine out of her grip. "Ok," Ash said, clearing her throat dramatically. "Question Number One. You have gone outside in a forest to do something. What was it? Option number one: I wanted to escape and think about things! Option number two: I wanted to look at all the different animals! Option number three: I want to practice shooting my bow and arrows! Option number four: I wanted to see how my new outfit looked! I can't go around looking like I don't care about my looks! I'm the prettiest girl in town!"

Ash put down the magazine. "Okay, firstly who the hell writes this stuff? And secondly, why are there so many exclamation marks? This last one has like, three." She chuckled.

Helena snatched the magazine back. "No, that's not the point. The point is what it tells you about _your_ character. They're actually useful tools for provoking self-reflection in an accessible medium. It's more of a reflection of what kind of Avenger _you_ would be."

"Oh suuuure," Bella drawled. "So what did I get? What deeper meaning does this fatuous thing unveil?" She waggled her eyebrows, seeing if Helena would pick up on her use of the word 'fatuous.' It was a recent favourite of hers which she liked to whip out when she thought Helena was being overly philosophical.

Helena rolled her eyes but obediently buried her face once more in the magazine. "Well, I've already done mine and yours. I was just halfway through doing Ash's. You got Stark," she said nodding to Bella. Bella groaned. "Oh please. Clearly Thor is my man. I mean, oof, what I would do if I could get that hunk alone in a room for just a few minutes…" She grinned devilishly at the cloud of pink slowly suffusing Helena's face. Ash shrugged. She was well used to Bella's appetite for men by now.

Helena plowed on determinedly. "It means you're sarcastic and witty. You often make jokes. Some of your friends think you joke too much. You were an only child, and are a fashionista. You had a wealthy upbringing and were very popular. You are likely to become fabulously rich in the future."

Bella laughed. "I'm starting to like this quiz more you know. I can picture myself now, lying on a yacht somewhere in the Caribbean…"

"Ok, H, what did you get?" Ash said. Helena coloured a little. "Hawkeye," she said.

'Hawkeye, hey?" said Bella. "I thought you'd get Banner for sure."

"No, it makes sense," Ash said hanging over Helena's shoulder and reading from the magazine. "It means you're the quiet observer. Silent and smart, always loyal and ready to help a friend in need. There's a deeper side to you that many people miss because of your quiet."

"Naw, look at you two." Bella rolls onto her back and starts stretching her legs. "Ok, then come on. Let's get her Highness out of the way."

Helena nods. After a few moments she looked up. "Captain America."

Bella groaned. "Of course _you_ get the hottie. But isn't he like 100 or something?"

Ash stuck a tongue out at her. "He's actually like 23 or something. The time he was stuck in the ice doesn't count."

"Of course, you would defend him about everything."

"What do you mean?"

"Hello, just look at your duvet."

All three paused to look at the star spangled banner rumpled under Bella's body.

"You're like, major patriotic."

"Do you want me to read this or not?" Helena interrupted. She could see another one of their bickering sessions coming. Both nodded. Helena read, "You're principled, strong and mature. You grew up with a big family who you are extremely loyal to. You are sometimes a bit daggy and but your friends love you all the same because of your compassion."

"Oh so principled," Bella drawled. She rolled her eyes. "These things are crap anyway. Ash doesn't even _have_ a family, let alone a big one." Helena frowned and looked to Ash who was nodding sombrely. "We all know it's true," she said. "There's no way I'm related to that lady." All three friends turn to a picture of Ash's mother, as she pouted next to Ash at her high school graduation and laughed.

Felicity was a small blonde, whose small but muscular stature was almost as out of odds with Ash's long, willowy build as her bright green stilettoes were compared to Ash's jeans and favourite denim jacket.

"I mean, have you ever seen Ash in anything higher than pumps?" Bella sniggered.

"Yeah I know, my Mum can outrun me even _in_ heels," Ash grumbled.

"Maybe you're adopted," Helena said.

"Yeah, totally." Ash rolled her eyes.

"Or like, a Russian princess!" Bella chimed in. "Like that film, Anna Karenina."

"Ana _stasia_ ," Ash and Helena corrected her. It wasn't the first time she'd made the mistake.

"Whatever."

And so the three friends continued their evening, swapping gossip and stories. They laughed, bickered and whined about the latest class they'd had with one of their lecturers, who spoke slowly enough that they could listen to recordings of him on double speed without getting confused.

Outside the dormitory, a small drone nestled on the windowsill, silently recording everything it saw.

Its owner sighed and pushed away from the console he was sitting at. He spun in his swivel chair to face Steve. "Well, that was embarrassing," Stark said grinning at his companion. He knew the Captain was uncomfortable during the discussion over the quiz. He was, 'oh so principled' after all.

Steve barely looked up from the pamphlet he had splayed across the desk. pparently Merici College was an all-female dormitory which prided itself on 'educating for lifelong success.'

"You're sure this was the one who moved the hammer?" Stark said to Steve, still watching the monitor. At that moment, Ash and Bella were engaged in a wrestling match over some chocolate that Bella had found sequestered in Ash's bookshelf.

His companion nodded, absentmindedly.

"But she seems so… _normal_."

Steve looked up. "She was the one who set the table. It had to be her. She'll show herself in time." He paused, before continuing a little uncomfortably, "Tony, are you sure we shouldn't tell-"

"No, no and no. We are not going over this again. Thor will march straight in there and demand answers. We need to know who she is and what we're looking at before we do anything."

Reluctantly, Steve nodded.

"And you better stay away too. None of this capering about like a hero. Leave the surveillance stuff to me."

He nodded again.

"Good." Stark smiled sarcastically before pushing off from the table, wheeling around the room in his swivel chair. "Let's just hope we're the only ones who noticed."


End file.
